Poet's Inspiration?

"Blazing Fire Glue, Blazing Fire Glue... Found it!"

Tang Qi's ears rang with endless snarls and shrieks.

A troll's strength was impossible to gauge, but their massive size also made them comparatively slow.

Explosive Wolf's mercenary band were seasoned hands on the battlefield. Aside from the mercenaries who had been sent flying early on after failing to dodge in time, they coordinated into formation, splitting into three groups. While pinning down the goblin skirmishers, they took the lead in surrounding and killing one troll.

After casting [Great Step Sprint] and [Grease Spell], New Star, in order to better assist the mercenaries in encircling the trolls, immediately spread thick, milky-white webs through the woods, hanging them from the treetops and trapping the trolls in their sticky strands.

When Explosive Wolf severed one troll's head, the mercenaries took the chance to hurl Blazing Fire Glue and ignite the intertwined webbing.

The flames raced along the webs, burning up to the troll's neck and reducing the wound where its flesh tumors writhed to charred blackness.

The headless troll was dead; even its wails could no longer be heard.

Once he no longer needed to maintain concentration on [Web Spell], he finally swept away the white mist in the woods with a [Fog Spell].

The goblins' vision was obscured as a result, and their arrows no longer had any aim.

This split the mercenaries' encirclement into two battlefields, easing a great deal of pressure.

"Nicely done, New Star!"

Explosive Wolf could not help praising him.

Being able to bring this Spellcaster along was the greatest stroke of luck in this commission.

There was a reason this young man had risen in a single leap to become a "New Star" among adventurers—

As a mercenary captain who had taken part in the southern defense war and truly fought orcs, Explosive Wolf had worked with many Spellcasters.

Unless they were high-level archmages, wielding forbidden spells that could destroy heaven and earth at a stroke and summon falling stars from beyond the sky onto the battlefield, a battlefield mage's duty should have been to provide the army with greater advantages and more opportunities to strike.

But clearly, he could not demand that those Spellcasters—most of whom studied scholarship in ivory towers and pored over ancient tomes—maintain even the most basic judgment of the battle before them.

The intelligence to analyze formulas and delve into spells counted as talent.

The battlefield instinct to grasp the whole picture and adapt to local conditions was another kind of talent.

For adventurers and mercenaries who often found themselves in peril, they preferred the latter.

"Enough chatter. Hurry up and finish off these stragglers!"

Praise could not make up for the mental energy New Star had expended, so it was meaningless.

In this brief clash, he did not think anyone was more exhausted than himself—

The goblins were not idiots. How could they possibly allow a mage to stir up the battlefield without any pressure?

Besides the several spells he had used to support the battlefield, he had even needed to evade arrows shot at him.

Though he had dodged most of them, he had still used a [Shield Spell] to place a force shield around himself and deflect them.

Four first-level spell slots and one second-level spell slot.

The successive expenditure was gradually leaving New Star unable to keep up.

In his current state, he could only support one more cast of his sole remaining second-level spell.

Though he could still endure the headache for now, running about the battlefield while using a few cantrips to fish in troubled waters, he truly needed a good rest—

"One's dead, another is already on its last legs, and the remaining goblins are nothing to worry about.

"As for the last one..."

His gaze flicked aside. He had actually noticed the duel at the edge of the camp long ago.

It had even given him a measure of reassurance.

So long as a troll did not charge out from the flank and interrupt his casting, this battle could be brought to a safe conclusion.

He had never denied Black Snake's capabilities—

Anyone who could walk out of the Great Desert could not be all that bad.

But Black Snake was finding the fight increasingly strenuous.

He had first dealt with several goblins firing arrows from the shadows. Now, relying on nimble footwork, he seemed to weave around the troll's feet, trading blows with it blow for blow...

Yet the iron chisel in his hand could not inflict any harm on it.

Even though he had already gouged out four of the troll's eyes—

those were practically the softest organs exposed on its skin.

The eye sockets, which had already sprouted eight black pupils, seemed to be mocking all his futile effort.

Black Snake was not a construct. He could not keep wasting his stamina here:

"Fuck, I told them to get a blade. Why are they taking so damn long..."

He slipped the chisel into his boot, gripping a goblin's rusty short blade in his hand.

But a short weapon was only barely enough for him.

If he had a weapon that truly suited his hand, he would never have ended up exhausted like this.

"The key is here!"

Tang Qi's shout finally lifted his spirits a little. He stiffly pulled the short blade from the troll's throat, then sprang up and caught the key thrown his way.

By the time he landed, the shackles on his wrists had already been flung to the ground.

"Where's my sword?"

"In that mage's tent. I sent Kuru to look for it."

"Where is he!?"

"Kuru, Kuru—"

The calls faded into the distance, yet the Kobold's figure still did not emerge from the mist.

Black Snake gritted his teeth. He understood what had happened.

"Damn it, that Kobold didn't run off in the chaos, did he!?"

Considering a Kobold's nature, that would have been perfectly normal.

Before the words had even faded, a club swept toward him.

He bent backward, his waist supple as a snake's. As the club skimmed past his navel, he braced himself with both hands and kicked one of the troll's heads beneath the jaw.

While airborne, he twisted at the waist, and the short blade struck the other head squarely on the Skull Top—

"Get out of the way!"

Hearing Tang Qi's sharp shout, Black Snake instinctively chose to trust him.

His boot stomped against the troll's chest and kicked hard. It failed to move the roaring troll in the slightest, but instead sent himself several paces away.

As he retreated, a glass bottle filled with amber-colored gelatinous liquid flew toward the troll's Skull Top.

"Roar!"

The two-headed troll instinctively smashed it with its club, but the instant the liquid met the air, it burst into a spray of sparks!

The liquid splashed across its forehead and arm, then ignited with a whoosh, flames immediately crawling over its entire arm.

"Hurts, hurts!!!"

Only then did the two heads lose their previous ferocity, their muffled roars sounding almost like wails.

A vicious gleam flashed in Black Snake's sharp eyes as he threw the short blade in his hand.

It flashed silver, carving a snow-white trail through the dim night sky.

Both trolls and goblins possessed the ability to see in the dark.

But it was still busy beating at the flames on its body—

The short blade punched straight through one of its skulls!

"Bard, sing something!"

Black Snake remembered Tang Qi's identity as a bard.

Since the Kobold had chosen to flee, he could no longer worry about anything else. He issued the command instinctively.

Tang Qi froze, then understood. This Black Snake seemed to be expecting him to cast a spell.

He swept his fingers across the strings. After a crisp hum, Black Snake shot toward the troll like a ghost, and a rich male baritone suddenly rang in his ears:

"I buried you upon a high, high hill.

Ah, farewell, my friend, farewell, farewell—

When tomorrow morning I wake from my dreams, I'll plant beautiful flowers for you!"

"Fuck you!?"

Black Snake's feet slipped, and he nearly spat out the plum wine in his stomach.

The blessing he had expected did not flow through the music. He could only pull free his short blade and roll away from the troll's sideways sweep of its massive club.

After putting some distance between them, he finally could not hold back and burst into curses.

"What the fuck are you singing? A funeral dirge?

Have I pissed you off that many times? You want to send me off that badly!?"

Tang Qi stopped playing, hesitating.

"Didn't you feel, in that instant just now, like you had strength you could never exhaust?"

Tang Qi's earnest question instead made Black Snake less certain.

Thinking back to the instant he had heard the song, he did seem to have felt a little excited... as though his blood were boiling?

But Tang Qi knew Black Snake had no need to doubt him—

though he was one of the few bards on this continent capable of casting spells.

But for now, he truly had no idea how to use the magic of music to inspire others and lift their spirits.

So he could only choose an immature method—

When a person felt pain or anger, their body secreted a hormone.

It made their heart beat faster and their blood flow accelerate, producing more energy.

On this continent, perhaps it did not yet have a suitable name.

But scientifically speaking, it was called [adrenaline].